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First days of work

Tonight I stopped at a little grocery in town to grab some food to supplement my hotel stay. Matt: they have Orange Juice with Bits! Get the strainer. There are lots of biscuits but not many that look like cookies to me. The eggs are kept on the shelf and you have to pay €0.22 for a plastic shopping bag (finally, I’m not the only freak with my own bag).

I am amused by some of the commercials, including kitten-branded TP that a guy wears to the tune of Kung Fu Fighting.

I’ve been surprised by the number of TV shows in Gaelic Irish. Right now I’m watching an Irish language talent show where viewers call in to vote: stoopid. It’s much like English language talent shows, but the judges are sickeningly nicer even when performers stink, and every other act is Irish dancing. One of those was 40-something moms who all needed sport bras. The judges tell everyone they are brilliant.

I’ve been to work two days so far and only hit a couple curbs (I consider this success). Everyone takes a tea break in the morning (which also includes a lot of breakfast foods) and then a couple hours later everyone eats a big lunch together. The cafeteria has been quite good so far and recycling is the norm. I have to say my coworkers are extremely friendly. I’m having issues getting my computer set up so I’m even less useful than I would otherwise be, but it looks to be an interesting job once I get done reading a LOT of training.

Tonight I wasn’t very hungry after all the food from work, so I decided to get some fries chips to go for takeaway. I stopped in my first real pub, where the locals were watching soccer football. The bartender left right after I placed my order and the cook had to get a beer for an old guy who just arrived. The bartender came back after a couple of minutes with a roll of foil he’d just bought down the street to wrap my fries! Then he repoured the Carling in the right glass (the old guy wouldn’t drink it in the wrong glass though he didn’t say anything to the cook when he poured it) and I chatted a bit with another old guy who was friendlier. Back to the hotel for an unhealthy dinner!

On Wednesday, I am going to the police station Garda to complete some immigration paperwork, getting a bank account, seeing my house (but not moving in yet), and getting up to Cork for the first time to see where to shop and figure out if this country has any fast food places.

Post Office in Kinsale

Harbor shots; all but the first one are right outside my hotel window
That big ship was full of some kind of sand. It woke me up two days in a row when they took the lid on and off. It took them a whole day to unload it into trucks.